


Gods Not Our Own

by Rikkamaru



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, No Game No Life - Kamiya Yuu
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4004032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkamaru/pseuds/Rikkamaru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Champions were selected for the Triwizard Tournament Harry, in a moment of desperation, calls upon the help of any gods that will listen. He gets the two that are both the most non-conventional and perfect for the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry stared at the slip of paper that had been given to him. _Harry Potter_ , the words mocking him, not even an attempt to replicate his handwriting. _A Confundus charm,_ he thought darkly. _A Confundus charm can defeat an ancient magical artifact like the Goblet of Fire._ And Harry hated the lack of common sense that wizards had, the inability to prevent something as simple as a Confundus charm from ruining a child's life.

"This isn't fair," he muttered bitterly, resignedly, crumpling the paper and tossing it to the ground. Around him the others were fast asleep, Ron's drapes closed and making Harry glare over there without thinking. "Who cares if he's fourteen, he's the Boy-Who-Lived. Surely he can live through a tournament known for its fatalities." If he sounded a little hysterical, who could blame him?

"Oh gods, I'm going to die. A little help would be nice." Merlin wouldn't help him; he was a revered but very much dead man, so Harry might as well appeal to some ephemeral gods. Head in his hands, the teen didn't notice the paper he had thrown on the ground catching fire by his magic and some mysterious force, burning until it was nothing but ash.

He did however notice when a fierce wind tore through the room, making the drapes around each bed flutter violently and snuffing out the candle Harry had lit when he had woken up. For a moment a drape around Harry's bed lifted and obscured the boy's line of sight. When it fell limp once more a teen was standing in front of him, amused and curious. It was dark and thus difficult to make out his features, his hair looking black and making his pale skin stand out more. Next to him was a young girl, even paler and with hair that glowed white in the darkness.

The two stared at Harry for a moment before the older teen grinned. "You called?" he asked, snapping his fingers to make the candle light back up. When he did Harry jumped a little as he registered their red eyes and the deep bags beneath the teen's eyes as well as the male's suddenly still black but red-tinged hair and the hints of blue in the girl's white hair.

His mouth moved on autopilot. "I'm sorry?"

"False," the girl said softly, making the teen laugh and pat her on the head.

"He was asking for clarification, little sister, not apologizing," he told her, before turning to Harry once more. "You did call for us, right? You asked for help from the gods and didn't specify which, so we showed up."

His shock was slowly giving way to disbelief and Harry began to look for his wand. These two were clearly mental. "So you're saying that you're gods?"

"Exactly," the teen grinned, the gesture emphasizing the bags beneath his eyes. It made him look world-weary and tired, and reminded Harry a bit of Professor Lupin. "We're not from this world, but I'm the god of…I suppose you could say contracts, and my little sister here is the god of strategy. We heard your plea, and sensed that something was off about your situation, so we showed up."

"…I see." His hand finally came into contact with his wand, and Harry whipped it forward shouting, "Expelliarmus!" The red light of his disarming spell shot forward and hit the teen in the chest.

Only to fizzle away.

The three stared blankly at where the spell had struck the teen before the person in question rocked on his heels a little. "Well this is awkward."

"Uhh…" was Harry's befuddled input.

The girl was not nearly so calm, her skin even paler and the red of her eyes darker and much less kind than they had been previously. "You tried to hurt Brother," she said faintly, her hair moving to a wind that Harry couldn't feel and her body twitching erratically as she floated into the air. The candle went out once more, to reveal that her eyes were now glowing and the wizard swallowed a little. Maybe he shouldn't have done that. And he was a little more willing to believe in their supposed godhood.

Before the girl could do little more than point at him, her brother stroked her hair and cradled her in his arms. "Hey, no harm no foul. I'm still right here, and I don't plan on leaving anytime soon," he said soothingly, letting her rest her ear over his heart. He then turned back to Harry, and his eyes too were less welcoming than before. "So you do not want our help?"

"Want your help with what?" he asked back, confused, and the teen huffed a little in disdain.

"We _told_ you; we felt your plea for help from the gods and came here. Something about a 'Triwizard Tournament'?"

By then the two were clearly losing their patience with him but Harry didn't notice, his brain stalling as it finally put everything together. "So you heard me when I was asking for help, and you want to help me with the Triwizard Tournament?"

Red eyes rolled as the other teen snapped his fingers and relit the candle. Harry took that moment to subtly check his dorm mates and saw that they were still in their beds, their chests moving as they breathed but still deeply asleep, and he wondered if the two gods had done something to ensure that they wouldn't wake while they were there. "Essentially. We'll need to know the context first of course. You know, how you joined the Tournament, why you joined the Tournament, the rules of this Tournament, your competition and so on."

"I didn't _want_ to join the competition," Harry snapped back defensively, before flushing a little at the startled look that flashed across the other male's face at the unsolicited harshness. "Sorry," he muttered, gesturing for them take a seat on his bed. The boy did so with his younger sister not moving outside of getting more comfortable on his lap. "People keep accusing me of cheating since there is supposedly no way for me to have entered since I'm underage. And the Champion for our school was announced before me."

As he began to explain the situation and rules of the Tournament, Harry was treated to the sight of the pair that was known in Disboard as former-king of Elchea and God of War Sora and former-queen of Elchea and God of Strategy Shiro – who together made up the current One True God of Disboard - growing angrier at the information that they were receiving. "In our world," Sora said as the teen wrapped up his story, "both sides must consent to a challenge and agree if they find the terms fair. What's happening here would be considered a perversion of our laws with the instigators punished. You may have done a poor job of introducing yourself to us, but we will not let you die from this Tournament." Sora grinned again at the younger teen, who seemed surprised but genuinely grateful.

Holding up a hand, the ashes of the paper that had helped call them there reconvened in his palm before becoming a paper once more, with a completely different message scribbled on it. He offered it to the boy, who took it warily and tried to read it over. "Call us tomorrow evening, Harry Potter, and we shall endeavor to help you. Until tomorrow." Sora nodded to the child once more, before he disappeared with Shiro. They needed to speak to Tet about their newest priority.

The only awake one in his room once more, Harry moved the paper closer to the candle to better read it. He squinted at the words and blinked as a brief flash of confusion went through him. "'When it is time,'" he read aloud, "'call upon…' but they left it blank. How am I supposed to call them then?" Turning it over to see if there was more on the back, Harry scowled a little.

 _You're a smart boy,_ it said cheerfully, _you'll figure it out!_

* * *

Tet perked up from his perch on a cloud, turning and smiling as his friends returned from Earth after being called away by a wish they overheard. "Sora! Shiro!" He hopped into the air and flew over to them, only to stop short. There was a frown on Shiro's face, and a dark look in Sora's eyes. "What's wrong you guys?" Tet stopped in front of his fellow gods, and Sora took a moment to nod at him before flopping onto the cloud they had been floating above. Shiro followed him swiftly, Tet doing so a little more slowly.

"A kid was forced into a game that could cost him his life, without his consent," was the muffled reply the former One True God received, and it immediately removed the smile on his face.

Strictly consensual-only games were one of the most ingrained rules on Disboard, and one of the Ten Pledges that Tet had made when he had been the One True God. Sora and Shiro had kept his Pledges when they'd taken the position, and with good reason. The idea that someone could force others to play games without a discussion of rules and stakes was _horrifying_ , and made Tet want to go to that world and take the child away from such disgusting schemes. "And so he called for assistance?" he asked for clarification, and received a confirmation from Shiro.

Despite the situation, a small smile tugged on Tet's face. "Well, he couldn't be in safer hands, I imagine. Blank is quite the fearsome god to call upon in a moment of need."

That garnered a reaction out of the two, as Sora rolled over to look at him and Shiro looked up. Sora stared at him for a moment before a sly, vicious grin appeared. "That is very true. Come, Shiro, we need to talk to Jibril about her interest in gaining even more knowledge from another world."

"That will make her quite happy, Nii," Shiro agreed, getting into the air alongside her brother. She glanced at Tet. "Nii…"

"Yeah," he sighed, scratching his head. The red-and-black haired boy turned to look sheepishly at Tet. "We may be a bit busy for a little while, as a heads up."

The God of Play blinked a little before letting out a delighted laugh. "Well it's not like we gods have any pressing matters to attend to," he reminded them. "And who said I wouldn't drop by to see how the kid who called on you is doing in the tournament?"

Sora smiled more gently at that and dropped his hand on Shiro's head to stroke her hair. "We would enjoy seeing you there," he admitted, before they set off to talk to Jibril about an offer Tet highly doubted she'd refuse.

Tet hummed a little, remembering the two NEETs who wouldn't interact with anyone but each other, who he had dragged into Disboard years ago. "They've both changed so much and yet barely changed at all," he said to himself as he looked around for something else to do. "It will certainly be interesting to see what they make of this magical side to their world that they didn't know about." He laughed a little. "I can't see it ending well for the wizards."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all I have for now! I want to see if people enjoy the idea or not.


	2. Ritual

“And that’s all we know so far,” Sora concluded to his longest allies and friends, sitting on the table with Shiro in his lap and facing them, finished with explaining the situation to them. “What do you think?”

Steph was the first to talk, having matured from her days of being the siblings’ slave and was now considered one of the greatest leaders that Immanity has ever had. “The fact that the boy’s headmaster, this…Dumbledore has done nothing but tell the boy that he must participate means that he’ll have very little support among his own people. He was not the originally chosen Champion, correct?”

“Right,” Sora nodded, his features darkening for an instant at the thought of the authority figures surrounding the boy. “The Hogwarts-chosen Champion is a boy named Cedric Diggory, and he seems equally resentful of who he assumes to be Potter for doing this to him.”

“So you have a child that has all of the odds stacked against him, with the world out to get him,” Izuna said dryly, ears twitching a bit in amusement. “It sounds like the perfect circumstances for you two, desu.”

“Indeed.” Shiro looked at the leader of the War Beasts blankly, before shifting her eyes to Jibril, Sora doing the same behind her.

“But we won’t have as much time to prepare as we did on Disboard, there are too many extenuating circumstances, too many unknowns. So we were wondering if you would help us do research, Jibril.”

The Flügel blinked in surprise at the request, before her eyes lit up in exuberance. “Masters! Do you really mean that?! I can go with you to this new world and read all of this information?!”

“We do mean it,” Sora said bluntly, both siblings ignoring the way she began quivering in excitement. “It appears to be the same as our world, but in England, and they apparently have a secret magical world and unique creatures specific to that underground society. We’ll need the help.”

“Then I accept!” she squealed happily, and making the others give them disgruntled looks that Shiro didn’t seem to notice and Sora picked up on.

“While we won’t need your help with the research, we may need it with the multiple tasks assigned to Potter in order for him to survive. We will tell any of you if we require your assistance.” That seemed to appease the others, though neither of the siblings could understand why they needed appeasement in the first place.

Sora clapped his hands together and hopped up on the table, Shiro standing by his side with her hand gripping one of his belt loops. “Wonderful! We have our battle plan and method of execution; all we are waiting for now is for Potter to call us.”

“Will he figure out your vague instructions?” Steph asked as she and the others rose as well; they all knew the pair’s unusual calling card at this point. It was a source of amusement among those who knew their moniker rather well.

“If he doesn’t than he isn’t worth helping,” was all Shiro said as her brother grabbed her hand, and the two disappeared once more.

* * *

Harry spent all of breakfast the next morning eating and staring at the card in equal parts, ignoring the glares and whispers around him but growing increasingly frustrated with the vagueness of the words he was reading. “Call upon who? Why would they ask me to call them if they left the name blank? And they never told me their name while we were speaking last night?” He grumbled quietly to himself, before hiding the card when Hermione sat down next to him.

“All of these people are ridiculous,” she huffed moodily, filling her plate and making notes on a piece of parchment she was carrying around with her. “Especially Ron. But it should be obvious that you didn’t put your name in, Harry. Dumbledore himself made that age line; there was no way you could have bypassed it to put your name in.”

Harry stared at her, torn between grateful and offended. That may have been obvious, but she didn’t have to say it _out loud_. “Thanks Hermione,” he said a bit cuttingly. “I really appreciate that.”

She huffed again, but sent him an apologetic look. “Oh you know I didn’t mean it that way Harry.” She said, putting the parchment away before tucking in to her breakfast. “You’ll have to start training soon,” she informed him, as if he didn’t already know that. “You’re already at least two years younger than the other Champions, so you’ll need all of the extra time you can get."

The boy stared at her incredulously. “You certainly know how to lift someone’s spirits ‘Mione.” Sure he was being a bit rude, but it wasn’t like she was really trying to soften her words either.

After a little bit Hermione left to get her supplies for their next class, and Harry sat next to Neville, staring at the paper again in the hopes that spending some time away from it would have refreshed him enough to try again. “Call upon someone,” he muttered, tapping the table in a bid to get his mind working. “There isn’t really anything there to let me pieces together either of their names, or a name for both of them. But they added a period after the blank space.”

As he was stewing over the paper, Neville glanced at it over his shoulder as well, and Harry sportingly let him; unlike Ron or Hermione, Neville wouldn’t ask him a bunch of question about where he got the paper if he didn’t offer up information right away. “Maybe their name is that blank space,” he suggested, and Harry swung around to look at him.

“What do you mean?” he asked, excitement at the idea of understanding this mysterious note mounting.

“Well, if you were to say that card out loud to someone, you would say ‘When it is time, call upon blank,’ right? Maybe that’s their name, Blank.”

Harry stared at Neville for several seconds, until he started to shift in discomfort, and clapped the other boy hard on the shoulder. Neville, you’re a genius,” he praised, before heading up to his room to get his supplies; he’ll try calling them after class.

With this motivation behind him, classes seem to fly by as Harry eagerly ignored his yearmates looks, Malfoy’s gloating face and Ron’s cold shoulders, though it did hurt to see the entire Hufflepuff house treating him coldly. While it did prove them to be the House of Loyalty, it stung to see them unite through their current dislike of him.

When classes ended for the day, Harry was quick to escape the scrutiny surrounding him, and found an abandoned classroom that was covered in dust and cobwebs in an unused corridor. Taking a deep breath, Harry placed the paper on a desk and stood a short ways from it. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Blank, I need your help.”

The room was enveloped in silence after those words were spoken, as if the world around him was holding its breath, and when nothing happened Harry felt a bit of disappointment creeping up inside him. That vanished as the paper caught on fire and, in the smoke, two figures stepped out. The red-tinged black haired boy grinned at Harry in greeting. “Hey there, Potter. Glad you figured out my riddle.”

The boy gave him an annoyed look before sighing and looking away in a brief stint of shame. “I didn’t, my friend Neville guessed what you were going for.”

The siblings shared a look before the boy’s grin softened into a small smile. “The fact you were willing to accept the advice and help of others is just as important as figuring things out yourself, something that took me a bit of time to realize.”

“Not just you, Brother,” the white haired girl said softly, and the boy turned and smiled at her, his hand twining with hers.

“Right then, introductions.” The boy cut through their tender moment after a second, and Harry suspected it was because they had an audience currently. “My name is Sora, and I’m the god of contracts and agreements as far as you’re concerned, and this here is Shiro,” he gestured to the white-haired girl beside him, who did little more than glance at Harry before looking away. “She’s the god of strategy.”

“I’m Harry Potter,” the two nodded to his introduction and Harry gave them a small smile at their lack of fanfare.

“Before we can start helping you to the fullest extent, we’re going to need to study your culture and magic,” Sora informed him, and when the Gryffindor gave him a confused look, he huffed a sigh and elaborated. “What magic is most useful for your Tasks? Is there a typical style for the Tournament that could give us ideas on what the Tasks may be? What creatures and beings exist in this world and how do they interact with the humans? You know stuff like that.”

“I suppose that seems reasonable,” Harry concurred after a moment of stunned silence. They certainly weren’t pulling any punches when it came to this. “But how are you going to get all of that information in time for the first Task? _I_ don’t even know a lot of that.”

Before Harry could actually grow worried over the matter Sora held up his hand to silence him. “We thought ahead for that, and asked one of our friends if she would assist us in our endeavor.” As he spoke the ashes from the previously burning paper rose up and formed a vague shroud which a young woman walked through. She had pink hair and golden eyes, but what really caught Harry’s attention were the wings extending from her hips and the…rather revealing way she dressed.

The woman smiled and bowed to Sora and Shiro, her eyes almost glowing. “You called for me, masters?” As she stood back up, Harry noted the winged style of her ears and the stylized halo above her head.

And then he grew distracted by a sudden thought. “How does she know English?” he asked, genuinely confused. “In fact, how do any of you know English? I thought you were from another world.”

“We are,” Shiro countered, actually looking a little pleased at the question (though Harry could barely read her face to figure out whether she was happy or not).

Sora elaborated more on her answer. “We’re all from the world Disboard, but Shiro and I are originally from this world, or world like it with no magic whatsoever. Though we lived in Japan, a lot of the games we played were American as well as Japanese, so we had to learn English to make it easier. After we spoke with you, we knew that Jibril here would need to know the language as well, in order to do any research, so we got a few books and taught her the verbal language as she learned the written on her own.” He shrugged. “It was the pragmatic thing to do.”

“And my masters know how much I value knowledge, so having their attention as I learned a new language simply made it even better,” the woman – Jibril, Sora had called her – said candidly, to Harry’s surprise even as the siblings ignored the way that could be misconstrued.

“Jibril will be doing the research for the general magical world, both the British and overall world, as well as magic and creatures within the magical world, while the you, Shiro and I will research the Tournament and join her if we finish in good time.” The god of contracts grinned, and it looked almost vicious in the dim lighting. “Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” was all the Gryffindor could say back, and he didn’t really try to hide the sudden slump in his shoulders as the tension began to creep out, replaced by a strong sense of relief. For the first time since his name was called, Harry could actually see a bit of hope for his situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be frank, I know how I'm Blank-ing up the First Task, but the Second one is really escaping me. Can you guys give me some ideas on how to jump through a few loopholes and have Harry do well?


	3. Chapter 3

Sora looked on in fond exasperation as Jibril began to drool over the Hogwarts Library. “Remember to focus on the culture and spells,” he said, easily gaining her attention as her eyes snapped over to him and Shiro. “Read whatever you need to give you context; we’ll be studying the history of the Triwizard Tournament for any recurring patterns in how they hold it whenever it takes place. Call if we are needed.”

“Yes, Masters,” the Flügel chirped excitedly, her wings puffing up for a second before she calmed herself. Somewhat. “I’ll have the basics done by the end of the week at the latest!”

Shiro nodded their dismissal from her spot beside Sora, and Harry boggled at all of them in shock as the pink-haired girl bowed and ran off, disappearing behind a shelf and only slightly slowed by the Ravenclaw uniform she’d magicked into existence. “There’s no way she’ll finish in a week,” he muttered faintly, as if he wanted to not believe it but was afraid to have doubts at the same time.

“Oh, she’ll easily finish the basics in a week,” Sora rebutted easily, running a hand through his hair absentmindedly. “Jibril owned her own library in our world that she won through a game of wits from the human capital city. Before we beat her, of course.”

“Of course,” Shiro agreed.

“Of course,” was Harry’s dubious acknowledgement, receiving a sly smile from the physically older god in response.

With that fact taken care of, the siblings began walking to where the history section appeared to be, their new charge catching up easily and eventually taking the lead in guiding them to the correct place. When they reached the history section the three split up, all looking in separate areas of the shelves.

Amidst the book browsing Harry shot a glance at the god siblings, watching as the two skimmed through the books and occasionally picked a book, the tome moving on its own and opening, the pages fluttering before their eyes before it was replaced or moved to float by their side. The two were decked out in the Hogwarts school uniforms, Shiro wearing the Ravenclaw blue and black tie while Sora would shift his between the Hufflepuff and Slytherin colors as he saw fit, favoring Slytherin and relishing in the wary looks occasionally shot at him. The two looked like they fit in, despite their unusual hair and eye colors, and Harry could admit he was a bit surprised at the ease in which they slipped into acting as if they belonged at the school.

Just as Harry was thinking of this, Sora turned his head slightly and caught his eyes, an amused smile on his face darkening his expression and making Harry drop his gaze hurriedly. He could hear Sora snicker from down the aisle and refused to look at him again, staring stubbornly ahead at the musty tomes lining the shelf. Perhaps two hours passed before any of them spoke up.

“Brother,” Shiro broke the silence between them with her call, making Harry turn around to see what would cause her to speak up. A book was floating in front of her, but whatever was on there, it wasn’t revealed by her expression.

“You’ve seen a pattern too then?” Sora inquired, sauntering to her side in order to read the book floating before her. The tome obediently began to flip through several pages and the god hummed under his breath and closed it, moving it to join the stack they’d slowly accumulated.

“You guys found something?” Harry asked, not bothering to mask his eagerness and shoving the book in his hands back into its place on the shelf.

“Most certainly,” Sora told him with a wry smile, before twirling his finger. On command the books rotated to array themselves before them and opened, all on different pages. “It seems that every year, barring the few events in which they were testing new ideas, there was a test of resolve, a test of problem solving, and a test that combined both. Each one is time sensitive and contains both standard rules and loopholes that somehow have _not_ been ruthlessly exploited yet.”

“Oh? What kind of loopholes?” Harry asked curiously, looking down at a book that was opened before them and contained a depiction of a cockatrice and wizard pointing his wand threateningly at the creature, face set in terrified determination.

“There is no rule on gathering information beforehand, so you could technically find out what the test is ahead of time and prepare for the scenario accordingly. It doesn’t say anything on sabotaging the other Champions, such a feeding them false information or misdirecting their attention onto someone else. And the one that caught my eye the most,” he paused dramatically until Harry gave him a glare and gestured for him to hurry up, “it says that another wizard can’t help you during the test.”

“How’s _that_ good news?” Harry asked incredulously, and Sora laughed. It was very unnerving sound.

“You're kidding, right? In our world, there are sixteen sentient races, and of them _fourteen_ are capable of magic. And I know for a fact that you at least have one other race here that is capable of the same; I can feel them in the castle.”

“Other creatures? Oh, you mean the House Elves,” Harry asked for clarification, but Shiro and Sora only stared at him blankly. He stared back at them until he remembered that they had yet to have time to actually learn more about Hogwarts or the magical world in general and blushed a little. “Right, sorry. Um, the House Elves are tied to a house or family and are basically their servants. Some owners are pretty nice, but I've been told a lot are really awful towards them. I have a friend, his name's Dobby–” and before Harry could say more, there was a pop and a familiar house-elf standing next to him excitedly.

“Mister Harry Potter has called for Dobby?” He squeaked, before freezing and staring at the curious gods that were examining him. Shiro nodded as if pleased and Sora let out another unnerving chuckle.

“Yes, this could work. If your friend Dobby here wants to help I think we can have a few more contingencies drawn up for whatever the test of valor may be.”

“What? You want me to use _Dobby_? He's my friend! Not some sort of expendable–” Before Harry's outrage could grow even further Sora's eyes narrowed and he snapped his fingers. Silence greeted Harry's ears despite his lips still moving and he froze, glaring at the eldest god. Dobby let out a startled and defensive sound and snapped his own fingers but to no avail as Shiro merely stared at him in mild irritation.

“We're not asking you to _use_ him, kid, we're asking for you to _work with him_ ,” Sora growled, looking honestly angry. “It might surprise you to hear this, but I don't just throw Jibril at every obstacle in my path. Shiro and I see where she's best suited and work from there.”

“Diplomacy and strategic movements are the keys to success with the least amount of injury,” Shiro concurred, and when she blinked Harry felt a pressure on his throat that disappeared immediately after. “If you do not wish to endanger your friend that is acceptable, but you must understand it will be much more difficult without an ally in your corner that the trial is not anticipating. You must also understand that your friend may _wish_ to help if he's aware that doing so is possible.”

Harry blinked. “Um –,” he jumped at the sound of his own voice, not expecting that to work, before turning to Dobby as the house-elf continued to glare suspiciously at the two gods. “Dobby,” he called out, and Dobby turned to him immediately, his large eyes locked attentively to Harry’s. “As you probably know, I’ve been forced to participate in something called the Triwizard Tournament, and it might,” Harry swallowed a little, “it might get me killed. That’s why Sora and Shiro here are helping me. They don’t like that I’ve been forced to do this against my will. And, er, they think that you might be able to help me. You could get in trouble if you get caught, so I understand if you don’t want to –”

“Dobby will help Mister Harry Potter,” the house-elf told him, steel and loyalty in his voice. “Harry Potter is Dobby’s friend, and Dobby will not allow Harry Potter to walk into danger alone when Dobby can help.”

Harry felt pressure on his throat again but, when he turned to look at the siblings, they were smiling approvingly at the house-elf and Harry realized that the sensation was his own doing. He swallowed to try and remove the feeling and smiled a little tremulously at Dobby. “Thanks Dobby, I…I really appreciate it.”

The house-elf’s eyes filled with tears but a sharp sound from Sora stopped him from entering his normal hysterics. The two turned instead to the gods, Shiro nodding her silent approval and Sora giving that same sly smile Harry noticed he normally did when things appeared to be going his way. “Alright, you now have an ally that can directly interfere with the task. After we help Jibril with her own research the next thing we need to learn are the limitations to what – Dobby, was it? – Dobby can do, both physically and magically. Let’s check this book out,” he gestured to the one he’d left open on the rules regarding the Triwizard Tournament as the others orbiting around them began to close and return to their shelves, “and check in with Jibril to see what we can help with.”

Harry nodded, feeling comforted as Dobby nodded with him and the four began moving to another set of shelves where they heard the content hum of what Harry assumed to be a happy Jibril. Sure enough, when they arrived there they found Jibril hovering a few feet in the air as she examined some books, a pile magically hovering beside her.

And a curious Hermione watching her.

 _Oh no_ , Harry thought fleetingly, while Sora made a thoughtful sound. “Explains why she isn’t drooling,” he said mildly to Harry’s confused look, before looking up at the floating woman. “Jibril,” he called, making Hermione jump and spin towards him as Jibril did the same but with much more enthusiasm. “How has your research gone?”

“Masters!” Was her happy greeting as she began to descend back to the ground, her pile of books following her. “It’s gone very well! I have found several books on famous wizards and general history, along with books on magical item maintenance.” Her eyes sparkled with interest. “It appears that Wizards are prone to relying on mediums to strengthen their magic, but it can make them dependent on the medium to cast any magic if they use it for too long. It’s quite fascinating! However,” she frowned a little and turned back to the books, eyes narrowing as if searching through her memory, “I was unable to find a basic introduction to the magical world, such as a book for Muggleborns – that is, those born with magic from two non-magical parents – to help them transition into this world.”

Hermione looked like she wanted to speak up but Sora began talking immediately, face disdainful. “Have you found anything on a magical location that provides the students here supplies? If you don’t need our assistance, Shiro and I can head there and acquire an appropriate book.”

When Jibril indicated that she hadn’t yet researched magical locations, Harry offered, “We get our stuff in a place called Diagon Alley. The books are bought in Flourish and Blotts, a bookstore. Er, you’ll need some magical currency though. Since you’re doing all of this for me, I don’t mind paying.”

Sora waved him off. “We can create money if we need it, or just create the book after reading through it ourselves. I’m not too concerned about money.”

Not wanting to be ignored and rather indignant, Hermione interjected with a stern frown. “You can’t just _leave_ and go to Flourish and Blotts; we’re forbidden from leaving campus unless for school-approved activities.”

Sora blinked at her before a similar dark amusement cast itself over the siblings’ faces. “Considering that we’re doing all of this to try and keep Potter here alive, I should hope the school would approve of our activities.”

Harry watched as Hermione’s face turned red in embarrassment before she stuck her chin out in her characteristic stubbornness, and repeated himself from earlier.

 _Oh no_.


	4. Gathering Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione joins their efforts to keep Harry alive and Sora and Jibril scheme a little.

It was as painfully easy as one might expect for Sora and Shiro to acquire the books they needed for Jibril to be appropriately caught up in the culture of the wizarding world. When they came back Harry saw Sora hand her about five books while Shiro looked thoughtful next to him. In her dazed, contemplative state, her eyes passed over him and she nodded in greeting. He nodded back and walked over to her. “Did you find everything?”

“Enough to make the trip worthwhile,” she answered, and Harry startled a little at her willingness to speak and glanced at Sora only to find him in deep conversation with Jibril, humor gone from their faces as they talked. He looked back at the younger god.

“Did something happen?”

She hesitated and tugged on one of the oversized sleeves of her Ravenclaw uniform. “Yes,” she finally said after a minute of thought.

Harry waited for her to elaborate before realizing that she had no intention of doing so. “Is it…about the Tournament?” he asked, dreading the answer but needing to know. He _had_ to survive this.

“No,” she assured him immediately, no hesitation present at all in her voice or expression, and Harry couldn’t stop the sigh of relief that escaped him if he’d wanted to.

“That’s…that’s a relief at least.” He paused and watched the three, Shiro looking at him and turning occasionally to take in the other two’s conversation and Sora and Jibril’s frantic whispering slowing down, the fleugel looking conflicted but accepting and the older god somewhat pleased about whatever conclusion they’d come to. “Do you guys want to go to breakfast with me?”

Sora and Jibril were only just turning to him to answer when Shiro said, “Yes”, grabbed her brother’s hand and starting dragging him down the hallway, Sora going along with it with an amused smile and a wave at Jibril, who took it as a signal to follow and trailed behind them with Harry in tow.

Harry smiled at the woman as she fished out one of the books they’d given her and cracked it open. “So what did they get you?”

She looked up and shot him a smile that nearly hurt his eyes from how blinding it was. “It’s various books about wizarding traditions and introductions to the wizarding world written by authors from different Hogwarts Houses.”

“Oh?” Harry asked, curious. “Why get so many?”

“You learn a lot about a place both in what they say and what they don’t say,” she replied, free hand rising to point a single finger up. “And as we’ve observed, students from different Houses have different values and mindsets, and that would influence what they do and don’t write about. It’s a good way to broaden your view of the world.”

Harry made an understanding sound. That hadn’t really occurred to him, he’d always just assumed that authors the school assigned books from like Bathilda Bagshot would be unbiased in their writing. Then again, Harry scowls as his mind brought up Gilderoy Lockhart, maybe he’d always been aware of the discrepancy but hadn’t really thought about it. It would certainly make sense with his general distrust in anyone in a position of authority. “Can I…” he hesitated a little, and was surprised at the nervousness he felt, the strange strain of vulnerability in his voice, but forged on. “Can I borrow those books when you’re done? I was raised outside of the wizarding world, and they could be helpful.”

He watched as her eyes widened before narrowing at him, something cold and calculating taking over her cheerful face. She tapped the book for a moment, and if Harry had to guess he would say that she was weighing something in her mind, but he couldn’t guess what. “As long as you promise to give them back when the time comes for us to go back home,” she said, utterly serious, and Harry nodded.

“I promise,” he said, and the cool expression on her face thawed as she gave him a small smile.

“Then sure,” she chirped, before looking at where they were going. “Oh! Looks like we’re here.”

Harry looked up, startled, and sure enough there was the Great Hall in front of them, mostly quiet as it was earlier than most students got up. “Seems so.” He turned his head to offer a nervous smile to the winged girl. “I’ll talk to you guys in a few minutes, then,” he offered, before heading over to the noticeably emptier Gryffindor table. Barely anyone was there, most of them the fifth and seventh years studying for their OWLs and NEWTs. They ignored him as much as they did anyone else not helping them prep for their exams and Harry sighed in relief and relaxed into his seat.

He’d only spent a few minutes eating and contemplating the books and what Sora and Jibril had been talking about so heatedly before a stack of books hit the table next to him with a sharp _smack_ and Hermione sat down next to him. “So?” She asked, opening a book she’d put down and retrieving a slice of bread to nibble on. “Did your friends get the books they were interested in?”

He looked at her in surprise for taking a sip of pumpkin juice to stall for time. The unimpressed look she shot him told him Hermione knew exactly what he was doing but would humor him for the moment. “They did,” he finally admitted, and her face quickly darkened.

“It’s against the rules to leave school grounds!” she seethed, and started to rise from her chair with the force of a displeased hurricane. “I should tell the teachers–!”

Harry was quicker, and grabbed her hand to tug her back into her chair. “Hermione, please, let it go,” he begged her. “The only reason they’re doing any of this is because they’re trying to help me. Can you give them a break? Please?”

At his last plea Harry saw her face finally soften and her eyes flicker down, guilt beginning to brew where anger had been so prominent before. “I’m sorry, Harry. I know they just want to help. But…” she worried her lip a little. “To be breaking the rules – even _laws_ – to do so…”

“Hermione,” he entreated gently and, when she glanced at him, squeezed her hand a little. “Someone broke a law to put my name in the cup. I could _die_ in this event. I don’t really mind if some people go to similar lengths just to keep me safe.”

She sniffed a little at that, but Harry thought he saw a smile flicker into existence for a second. “I guess. And I…” her eyes narrowed a little, as if she were straining to consider something, and she sighed. “I can’t just break the rules like they can, Harry. But I won’t comment on how they do thing and I-I’ll do what I can to help you. I don’t want you to die either.”

Harry couldn’t hide his surprise as he looked at her. “Don’t trust Dumbledore to keep me safe?” he asked, only half-joking, and she made a face like she was biting into a lemon.

“If not even Dumbledore could keep your name out of the Goblet of Fire, I’m not sure how he’ll keep you safe in the actual tournament,” she said, and something about her phrasing had Harry laughing and leaning into her, nearly sending them both tumbling out of their seats as she made a surprised sound and tried desperately to support him. “Harry please! I almost spilled juice on my book!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled, finally calming down and returning to his own seat. “I wasn’t expecting such a scathing opinion of Dumbledore from _you_ of all people.”

“Scathing?” she asked, before her words caught up with her and she blushed crimson. “I-I didn’t mean it like that!” she refuted, suddenly realizing just how rude the words could sound. “I just meant –!”

“Hermione, it’s fine,” Harry said, finally calm enough to talk without laughing again. “I think I know what you were getting at.”

She eyed him nervously for another moment before returning to her book, and Harry went back to his food feeling lighter than he had in what felt like weeks.

* * *

“Alright!” Sora clapped a little in one of the unused class rooms once classes had passed and the day was winding down, Shiro standing next to him. He looked at the four surrounding him and Harry couldn’t help but wonder just how Hermione would respond to…well, _any_ of this plan. Or the two gods’ casual use of wandless and wordless magic. 

“To recap: Harry was entered into the tournament without his consent, throwing his life into mortal peril.” He gestured to Harry and then to himself, Shiro and Jibril. “ _We_ offered our help once we found out Harry was being forced to participate in a tournament that could very well kill him.” His hand flicked over to Dobby and Hermione. “And you two have decided to help out in whatever manner you can now that you are more caught up on the situation. Any questions?”

Hermione’s hand shot up and Sora nodded at her. “How can Dobby help?” She asked, genuinely curious.

Sora smiled, red eyes gleaming for a second in the lighting. “Dobby can directly assist Harry during the tasks. It says specifically in the rules that a _wizard_ may not directly assist a competitor during the task, but nothing on other magical creatures.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed, and Harry could see the struggle she was trying to hide from the three strangers around them. “And…and you’re okay with this, Dobby?” she finally asked, and Dobby nodded so hard his ears flapped around him.

“Dobby will do anything he can to help Harry Potter live,” he said firmly, and Hermione drew a breath that shuddered a little with the force of the conflict within her before letting it out with a whoosh. The next came easier.

“Okay.” She nodded and looked back at Sora, and Harry didn’t have to hide his surprise. He hadn’t realized just how much Hermione was afraid for him, if she was _that_ willing to let Dobby’s willingness to help go for the time being. “What have you found out about the tasks so far? From what I’ve researched the first task is typically combat and the second focuses on problem solving, but that’s all.”

And so they continued, trading information and ideas as Jibril read through what Harry suspected was the third book of the five they had bought her.

* * *

“Dragons.” Harry kept saying. “We’re supposed to be fighting dragons.”

“Yes, Harry,” Hermione said, scowling but not trying to hide the way her hands were trembling.

“ _Dragons._ ”

“Harry, please, you aren’t helping by saying “dragons” over and over.”

From where he was lounging on the teacher’s desk Sora watched the two of them in curiosity while Shiro tried to activate what looked like a muggle tablet and scowled at it childishly. “So what’s the issue? Yeah the dragons are nesting but they should still be amenable to a parlay where you can tell them you need the fake egg in their nest and bargain from there.”

“Master, the dragons in this world are not sentient. They wouldn’t agree to a parlay,” Jibril said, and Harry was in such a position as to see both Hermione’s confused frown and the utter surprise that passed over Sora and Shiro’s faces.

Huh. So they had dragons that were smart enough to parlay in Sora and Shiro’s world? Harry filed the thought away for another day as the older of the two gods spoke again. “Okay, so no diplomatic options, which I guess reinforces that this is a combat-specific challenge. Or cunning-based.” Sora leaned back slightly while resting on the desk, body at what looked like an uncomfortable angle that had no effect on him. “Do potions or spells exist that mask your scent or make you invisible?”

“Sneak into the nest and steal the egg? Not the most impressive display,” Harry mused out loud, and Shiro and Hermione shot him looks.

“You’re not trying to be impressive, you’re trying to live,” Hermione reminded him before gaining a thoughtful mien. “I’m not sure about potions, but a body-sized body head charm or something similar could contain your scent within a limited space, and there’s always the notice-me-not charm, and your invisibility cloak.”

“Your _what_?”

Harry started at how forceful the question was and took in the sudden intent in Sora’s eyes. “I have a cloak that makes me invisible,” he explained, and Sora stared at him blankly before a dark smile took over his face.

“Let’s continue researching, but I have an idea.”

* * *

“Giving away key information, Harry?”

Harry looked up and half-heartedly glared at the god lounging nearby. Sora smirked back. “He needed to know,” Harry told him, ready to argue this until his dying day. When Sora didn’t respond, he continued. “I…I don’t want anyone to die in this.”

“That’s good,” Shiro said from where she was sitting on a ledge, shrugging in time with her brother. “We’re glad you care so much for another’s wellbeing.”

“R-really?” Harry was, for a moment, caught flat-footed. While he knew people appreciated his compassion, he was still scolded for letting it get the best of him at times. To have the gods’ staunch approval was…strange.

“Really.” She confirmed. “Now go make sure the other champions know.”

“I saw Madame Maxine and Karkaroff when I saw the dragons,” Harry argued, but followed when they started walking to where the Durmstrang students were staying. “I’m sure they know.”

“Best make sure,” Sora said with faux-lightness, and Harry found himself nodding without thinking about it.

“The Tenth Pledge,” Shiro said, and Harry squinted a little at them.

“The Tenth Pledge?” he asked.

Sora nodded and stretched his arms out. “Yup. ‘Let’s all have fun and play together!’”


End file.
